I remember the first day I fell in love with myself. I was 22 years old, a new member of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, Incorporated, a second-year resident advisor, and an active Black student on campus. I don’t ever remember hating myself, but I know I had this sense of shame in the way that I looked. I can’t recall where that sense of shame came from or how it was learned, but I also know I was affirmed to love myself or to choose myself. I had to force myself to like and love myself. I had to force myself to be comfortable with being uncomfortable. I had to force myself to get dress and go out. I remember the first time when I proudly rocked my natural hair. I had on my Zeta Jersey and some white pants, and I remember telling someone to take a photo of me because I wanted to remember the moment. I wasn’t going anywhere special, but it meant a lot to me to be comfortable in my skin, and to be comfortable meant embracing my fro.
I can always love myself better, but I am happy to say that I love myself today more than I did yesterday, and I have no problem with choosing myself.
Can you recall the moment you realized you unapologetically loved yourself? Wasn’t it beautiful?
— Ma’ Ronda X — Peace Be Upon You